-A Kraken in Winterfell-
by Freedom Rose
Summary: This story is -like the titel says- about young Theon and how he came to Winterfell to live with the Starks. It starts with the battle in Pyke and his growing connection with the Starks.


Hello everyone :))

I got the idea about this new story for a while ago. Like the title says it is about Theon and how he came to Winterfell through his eyes. It is so sad that there are not many flashbacks in the books which describe Theons' story more. So I hope you like it and please leave a review if you have something to share :))

P.S: Without the help of crimsoneternal and of course skyewardfitzsimmonsphilinda I would still be writing it :))

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><p>A Kraken in Winterfell<p>

It was not for the first time in his young life that Theon felt fear, but the sounds of the hammering cannons made his heart spring wild in his chest.

It was the fifth day; the fifth day of the usurper's attack, and Theon knew that with the fall of his older brother and his father's subsequent rage, the fight was all but over. But he wouldn't say it out loud, wouldn't say anything.

He didn't even cry as his mother grabbed his sister and him and locked them in Asha's room. Most of the service had already fled.

Lord Stannis had smashed their fleet and so many of their men. He saw their corpses lying everywhere, the castle was full of the screams of wounded men and permeated by the scent of the dead. He heard the vultures screaming as they nourished themselves on the dead, and he couldn't help but shudder.

He hadn't seen his father and remaining brother Maron in days-only his mother and sister. The nights were the worst. He had hoped that at least the night would be peaceful, but Robert Baratheon kept up his endless attack day and night.

Theon could hear each blast of cannon and the resounding noise that always followed, and he prayed to his god that he would help him.

In his heart, however, he knew that they were lost.

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><p>His mother had tried to sooth them and keep them calm during the first days of fighting, but after the message of Rodrik's death she sat in the corner of the room, and even when her children cried and plead, she remained mute and motionless.<p>

In the horrible nights, when he barely slept, he would wake up from a nightmare of the Baratheon king who stormed into his room, slaughtering everyone just like he had done with Rhaegar Targaryen.

It was his sister who kept him in her arms, and lay beside him the her huge bed, telling him stories of better times to ease his fears.

It was in the beginning of the twelfth day where the usurper conquered his hometown Pyke, and it happened with a sound so loud that he screamed after his sister. There was dust everywhere and the walls of his castle quavered like they would break down.

He couldn't help but start to cry as another tremor sent him falling to the ground.

He heard his mother scream as Asha pulled him under her bed, speaking soothingly in a vain effort to calm him. Because what good were words when the world was ending?

From what he could see, the main watchtower was torn apart, leaving rubble in the place of the once-glorious building. A massive part from the surrounding wall was also missing.

He heard men scream and another wave of battle noises filled his ears, leaving him crying silently under his sister's bed.

"Mother don't. Please stay!" his sister was crying.

His mother knelt beside the bed, kissed Asha's cheek and his forehead. "My dear, I have to go. I have to know what's going on. Your brother is still out there and your father..."

She tried to hold her tears at bay, but Theon could see the truth in the once-bright eyes he loved so much. "Mama, please!" Theon grabbed at her like she was his lifeline.

"Sweetling, you have to be brave. I promise you I will come back, but you have to stay here! Asha," she looked at his sister, "Please shut the door after me and don't let anyone in. You have to protect your brother!" She stroke Asha's hair and kissed his cheek and then ran out of the room without a second glance at her remaining children.

Asha, even then the bravest girl Theon ever had ever known, grabbed him and pulled him to his cupboard. "Theon, help me!"

"But mother"—

"Theon, move!" He did as he was told and helped his sister move the heavy wooden cupboard in front of the door. "And the desk!" She pulled the desk right before the board and broke a leg of the table apart to hold it like a wooden sword as she had practiced. "Theon, go back to your place under the bed," she ordered calmly, her face pale and determined.

"But I want to help!" Although he didn't know how to fight against the usurper-or anyone, really-he didn't want to leave his sister alone.

She sighed deeply and gave him another wooden leg. "Hold it close. And use it as best you can. For Pyke!"

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><p>It had to be hours later, as the sounds outside became smaller. There was a huge scream of victory by men, but he didn't know from which side it came. But by the look in his sister's eyes he knew that they had lost the war.<p>

"Where is mother, Asha?"

"Shh now. Mother will be fine. Father will be fine and Maron will be fine. _We _will be fine."

Theon couldn't help the fear pounding in his chest, and he wanted so desperately to cry and seek comfort in his mother's arms like he had done when he was young.

Suddenly there were someone rattling the doorknob. There were words and laughter and then someone who shouted, "In the name of our King Robert Baratheon, open the door this instant!"

"Theon, be quiet. Don't say a word."

They tried to enter the room again. "Open the door!" The shout grew angrier.

"The door is locked," another man said.

"Well, then open it. Smash the door. Everything is destroyed in this fucking castle of Balon."

There were more laughter and Theon cringed with every kick and beat on the door.

"It is blocked. Something is in front of the door."

More laughter but also an annoyed growl. "This bastard will have his crown jewels here. _Smash_ it down!"

"Theon, help me!" They tried to move the huge bed, but it was too heavy to even move it an inch. "Theon, get under the bed. Hide yourself!"

"No, I want to stay."

"Theon, do as I told you!" The boy nodded and hid himself behind the curtain from the bed.

There were only a few moments left and Theon held his breath as the cupboards were also smashed down. He saw the face of a dirty, bearded man, who smiled as he saw their last barricade, the table, and his sister standing behind it, the wooden club in her hand. "Look who we've got here, men! A little maiden!" With a few strong pushes the man was able to enter his sister's room.

After him came five others, also dirty and grim looking as well. "Get the hell away, you mother fucking bastards!" His brave sister stood there, ready to strike the first man who came closer.

The soldiers laughed. "Look who we have here," the same man repeated. "You have quite the mouth for a girl, don't you think? Maybe we should teach you some manners, what men?" He reached for her, but Asha hit him right in the face with her club.

"You little bitch!" Another man reached to grab her and before Asha could strike back, the man struck her across the face and blood spurted from her nose.

Theon forgot his fear, and with courage he never thought he had, stormed out of his ambush and attacked the man who had touched his sister. He hit his back and his legs, but before he could strike again, the man dragged him forward by the collar, his fist colliding with Theon's cheek.

"What is going on here?" A booming voice sounded at the edge of the room, and Theon's attacker dropped him.

The attacker was still holding his sister, however, and Theon darted forward, shouting and kicking in an attempt to free her.

Suddenly, there were strong arms around him, pulling him inexorably away from Asha despite Theon's best effort.

"I asked a question. What is going on here?"

Theon noticed that all the men bowed his head to the man speaking.

When Theon saw the man, his first instinct was fear—not the desperate fear he had felt facing the bastards who had attacked his sister, but a colder, more deadly fear.

This man was tall, taller than his father and brothers, with hair that was not shorn short like his father's, and a beard on his stern face. There were furs around his shoulders which made him appear even broader than he was, but there was no denying it—the man looked as if he had the strength of a bear.

"Nothing, Lord Stark," one of the men answered finally.

"It doesn't look like 'nothing'. So will someone tell me what is going on?" The man called Lord Stark didn't raise his voice, but the low growl in his question made Theon flinch further.

Unfortunately, his eyes landed on his new captor as he looked up, and then did not dare look away. The man had a compelling face, if you could call it that, with a long scar that ran down to the scruff of his beard and eyes as sharp and as cold as the wind blowing down from the north.

"The door was locked and they had shoved furniture against it," one of the soldiers began.

"So you enter and scare these children?" Lord Stark asked coldly, and then his hand snaked down and tilted Asha's chin up even as she flinched away from him. "And then you hit them?" He looked at Asha, and when his gaze snapped to Theon, the boy looked down. He didn't want to see those dark eyes, hard and unflinching.

"They were attacking us," one soldier said feebly, but when Lord Stark looked at the man, he shut his mouth.

"These children?"

"Aye, Mylord. They fought like little wolves," the man with the scar in the face answered him and as Theon looked again at him, the corner of the man's lips turned up in what could almost be called a smile. He was young, Theon realized, this scarred man, though his wounds made him look older and war-weary.

_Like father looked_, Theon thought, flinching at the thought.

Theon looked at his sister. Her face was already swollen and her lip was split. Gingerly, Theon reached out a hand and touched his own face. He wasn't much better, realized—his cheek was already swollen to twice its normal size.

Lord Stark knelt to Asha's level. "What's your name, girl?"

Asha looked up at him fearlessly. "My name is Korah. This is my little brother Vik."

Theon did his best not to react, nodding along to everything Asha said.

Before Lord Stark could ask another question Asha continued: "We are servants of King Balon."

The man which Asha had knocked down laughed. "Your king is no king anymore!" He started forward, but Lord Stark raised his hand and the man stopped in his place, looking slightly abashed.

"Mylord." the man with the scar spoke softly, and Lord Stark turned to him. "Mylord, these children are no servants. They fight with valor, and look at this one—she stands with the bearing of a queen. They are nothing if not Balon's remaining children."

Lord Stark raised his eyebrows and looked at Asha, who drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing with fury.

It was true—she did have the bearing of a queen.

How Theon wished he had her courage, but he had heard and understood what the scarred man had said. If they were indeed the last remaining children of Balon, then that meant that his older brothers were dead. Where was their mother? Was she alive?

"Then you would have to be Asha? And your little brother is no Vik. His name is Theon, it not?"

Asha stared straight ahead, chin up, brave and fierce and proud despite the fear at the back of her eyes.

Lord Stark stood up and went to Theon who moved back but could not escape. "Jory, bring those children back to their mother."

So their mother was still alive? Theon let out a breath he didn't know he had hold in.

Lord Stark's firm hand gripped Theon's swollen chin suddenly, and he looked up straight into the man's grey eyes. His thumb traced the outline of the bruise, and his eyes followed Theon's flinch and his subsequent effort to hide the pain. "And find them a Maester who shall have a look at them." With that, their new grey-eyed captor turned on his heel and strode out of the room without a second look.


End file.
